The ones done in London.
Eva jumped up and rushed toward Jasmine, almost tripping over a stool on her way. She ran up to her hostess, hand outstretched, ready to grab the sketchbook before Jasmine reached one particular drawing.
Too late. She saw the page turn to reveal a drawing of a naked, sleeping man. She noticed Jasmine’s reaction. Eyebrows up, eyes narrowing, head angling.
Then those eyes looked at her. Right at her. Right through her.
“I see you were busy with your studies while in town, Miss Russell.”
“Yes. I did quite a few drawings. Of sculptures and such.” She took the sketchbook, closed it, and tucked it under her arm.
“Theand suchappears to have inspired your best efforts.”
Had Jasmine recognized theand such? Eva had not finished the head and face in any detail, and the angle of that face might make it unrecognizable in any case. She hoped so, but the frank expression in Jasmine’s eyes suggested one person in Langdon’s End now guessed the truth.
“I also called on Mary Moser. Thank you for your letter of introduction. She received us, and asked after you. She told me to find a way to draw from life.” She hoped Jasmine would take that as a full explanation of the drawing.
A small, fleeting smile suggested Jasmine found the excuse amusing. “How did you find Mary’s health?”
“Not well, I am sorry to say. I think she expects the end soon.”
“Thank you for telling me that. I will write to her at once.” One more open-eyed, direct look, one more glance at the sketchbook, and Miss Neville departed.
Eva returned to the table. “Are you done eating all the cakes? Let us go and finish our errands.”
For the next hour, while they shopped for food and sundries, Eva tried to accommodate the idea that her reputation—her entire world—now rested in the hands of a woman known for outspoken opinions, radical ideas, and indifference to how society exacts high tolls on prohibited behavior.
***
Gareth returned north in one of Lance’s carriages. He carried cargo that could never be transported on a horse.
He did not return to Albany Lodge right away, much as he wanted to. He intended to call on Eva as soon as possible. He had not been present when she left Langley House three days ago. He and Ives spent that day tracking down the paintings Zwilliger had put out for sale. Then they devoted a good deal oftime forming a strategy that might bring this investigation to a close quickly and successfully.
It would be good to be done with it. It had become an intrusion and distraction. He would prefer to stay near Langdon’s End and spend his days with Eva. Not in passion necessarily. That had perhaps come too soon. He wanted to explain his cruel practicality to her. He also wanted to ask her about her art, and her plans, and whether she might want to travel to distant lands. If she did not want him to continue as a lover, he could still be a true friend. She did not seem to have many of those. Neither did he.
The carriage wound its way through the city, past houses and shops, and into the center where businesses and banks hugged the streets. On the edge of that district, the shops became scarcer and the buildings larger and less distinguished. Chimneys abounded. Here were the factories where Birmingham’s industry thrived.
The coachman took him to one of those structures. Gareth had two visits today. This one promised to be the more pleasant one.
Entering the factory was much like gaining entry to a good home. A man at the door inquired of his purpose for visiting. Gareth handed over a card and said Mr. Rockport expected him.
Much as with a morning call, he was escorted to the master of the house. Wesley Rockport greeted him in his office. Furnished in imitation of a gentleman’s study, the office had bookshelves that held rows of neatly bound ledgers, and, Gareth could see with a glance, a few large tomes regarding the law. Of more interest was a long table set flush under a large window so the light could flood in. Row upon row of small metal objects lined the table’s surface, displaying the products that paid for the room’s moldings and furniture.
Rockport saw his interest and beckoned him to look closer. Together they viewed and touched the display. “These bucklesare my pride and joy. Steel, they are. Expensive to make. I’ve twenty men who can forge them faster than most, and four who work the designs to their fancy. It is an indulgence of mine. The brass ones here go for much less, of course, but the volume is huge and the margin impressive.”
The steel buckles’ production harkened back to a generation ago, when artisans created almost everything made and bought in England. Like the mills replacing the home weavers, however, modern methods had changed Rockport’s industry, altering design, quality, and even the need for skills. Lower cost, huge volume, and impressive margins were the hallmarks of successful manufacturing now.
Gareth listened to the rest of the tour, as Rockport pointed out the bits and bridles, the hinges and locks, the fittings, knives, and door handles. Small metal objects, all of them, each with a widely established purpose that fulfilled a necessity.
Rockport invited him to sit in a comfortable chair. He offered coffee and brandy, and sent for the former. He appeared pleased that Gareth had shown interest in his business.
Gareth liked Wesley Rockport. They had gotten on well while escorting the ladies around London. When Wesley had asked him to stop by this factory as soon as they returned north, he had agreed. He assumed there was a reason. He expected to learn what it was after the coffee came.
Sure enough, after drinking his cup, Wesley set it down and sent all of his attention in Gareth’s direction. “Sarah has been speaking of nothing but your family’s generosity. I fear that visits to London will become an expectation of hers now.”
“My apologies, although you seemed to find much to occupy you too.”
“I did indeed. I called on many of our patrons there. I learned some interesting things, regarding their future needs and present problems. I learned, for example, that our ordersfrom the carriage makers have dwindled because the man I hired to call on them had not bothered to do so much, and was drunk most times he did.”
